Shep. Oh my heart

Pol. Ile haue thy beauty scratcht with briers & made

More homely then thy state. For thee (fond boy)

If I may euer know thou dost but sigh,

That thou no more shalt neuer see this knacke (as neuer

I meane thou shalt) wee'l barre thee from succession,

Not hold thee of our blood, no not our Kin,

Farre then Deucalion off: (marke thou my words)

Follow vs to the Court. Thou Churle, for this time

(Though full of our displeasure) yet we free thee

From the dead blow of it. And you Enchantment,

Worthy enough a Heardsman: yea him too,

That makes himselfe (but for our Honor therein)

Vnworthy thee. If euer henceforth, thou

These rurall Latches, to his entrance open,

Or hope his body more, with thy embraces,

I will deuise a death, as cruell for thee

As thou art tender to't.

Enter.

Perd. Euen heere vndone:

I was not much a-fear'd: for once, or twice

I was about to speake, and tell him plainely,

The selfe-same Sun, that shines vpon his Court,

Hides not his visage from our Cottage, but

Lookes on alike. Wilt please you (Sir) be gone?

I told you what would come of this: Beseech you

Of your owne state take care: This dreame of mine

Being now awake, Ile Queene it no inch farther,

But milke my Ewes, and weepe

Cam. Why how now Father,

Speake ere thou dyest

Shep. I cannot speake, nor thinke,

Nor dare to know, that which I know: O Sir,

You haue vndone a man of fourescore three,

That thought to fill his graue in quiet: yea,

To dye vpon the bed my father dy'de,

To lye close by his honest bones; but now

Some Hangman must put on my shrowd, and lay me

Where no Priest shouels-in dust. Oh cursed wretch,

That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst aduenture

To mingle faith with him. Vndone, vndone:

If I might dye within this houre, I haue liu'd

To die when I desire.

Enter.

Flo. Why looke you so vpon me?

I am but sorry, not affear'd: delaid,

But nothing altred: What I was, I am:

More straining on, for plucking backe; not following

My leash vnwillingly

Cam. Gracious my Lord,

You know my Fathers temper: at this time

He will allow no speech: (which I do ghesse

You do not purpose to him:) and as hardly

Will he endure your sight, as yet I feare;

Then till the fury of his Highnesse settle

Come not before him

Flo. I not purpose it:

I thinke Camillo

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